Looking through the window
at floating clouds
sun beams melting away
in their fluff
a bird flies by

A slight shiver awakens my spine
your warmth slowly slithers
around me
a strong embrace

The sun shows up again
the clouds have passed
blue skies, calm me

you land a kiss on my shoulder

you go back to bed

and sign off with a light caress down my spine

sign language for

"come back to bed
the sun understands"

Lovely bird
Flying from poetry's
Beautiful pages
Tell love
I miss her.

tizzop is the lover of
a single mother  

years ago tizzop
knocked at our door
nighttime the remains of
day splattered across the floor

when you think of tizzop:

think of your last
déjà vu and what you
felt
think of early immigration:
the german belt

tizzop: a combination of
people lovin/people hatin'
pride of a nation yet
last letter standing in a
poem without ending

long time ago tizzop
knocked at our door
nighttime the remains of
day splattered across the floor

tizzop hungry; he asked for
food while slowly taking his hat off
to my mom; she delighted since she
saw into the eyes of a warrior acting
quite politely

then tizzop fainted and fell on
the floor obviously he was starving
mom fried some chicken

later at the table tizzop gobbled
bonez'n'skin;
the more i looked at tizzop's
traits the way he moved his
cheeks and chewed his food
i sensed that we were  
kin

nobody talked: familiar
silence filled the room

the more i looked at tizzop's
bossy smile and his
black teeth i was
reminded of something

like the déjà vu of a  
déjà vu

strong connection between
tizzop and me: he
stayed at our place and soon became

my brother
little by little mom turned him
into her lover

wanted to **** him but
didn't
**** it this poem gotz to be
hidden

Find a good metaphor to die on,
in a poem at 3:24 am.
Alone in my own bed watching some cheesy
Hulu special with attractive people
who got their start in Disney.
I think about another failed relationship.
My eyes feel dry, so I wet them again.
This is real. This is healthy.
This is hurt.

Why’d he do that?
Self doubt creeps in like the black of night
slipping into my room while I count the hours
like I used to count his freckles,
or was that the one before?
I tried to feel longing.
I don’t want to be in his musk.

I don’t want to wake up the same.
Maybe I’ll wake up and he’d have never
done what he did.

But this was necessary,
at least valid.
The push I needed-
blessing in disguise of sudden
Loneliness during the holidays
while everyone I know
is with someone else
Happy or not.
Happy?
It’s not a constant, right?
I’m okay. I’m cleaning.
I’m painting. I’m flirting.
I’m hurting.
I’m certain this is temporary.
And I’m observing the resistance.

My ******* are hardened.
I’m not aroused- it’s just ******* cold.
And my human space heater
is out of service.
Need a new one.
Or a blanket.
A heated blanket. I’ll just get
A blanket.
They’re less disappointing.

I saw a promise
In a single stare
eyes whispering with certainty
a feeling we both could share.

Beautiful and unique
But also quite terrifying
Alone in a bed of colorful flowers
Always left unwanted.

Beautiful black rose
Alone and thorny
Different and feared
None appreciates its beauty.

Many wanted to pick it
But no one dared to reach it
The only one left among its peers
New generation now surrounds it.

I've watched it for quite some time
It is as lonely as me
I picked it up and carried it back home
Decided it to plant it in a ***.

I will take care of this rose
So we'll no longer be alone
I will appreciate your uniqueness
Because we are as lonely as each other.

The fungi has started to grow again,
coming from inside, rotting within.
My eyes scan the room from left to right,
there's nothing interesting,
anywhere found in sight.
I remove myself to explore and play,
into the forest I go, around midday.
As I wander and wonder,
my thoughts twist around me, causing a fluster.
All of this just because of,
some guy.
It's not your normal fungi,
it's the kind that if you touch it,
it will rot you from your delicate finger tips
to the very light that is your soul.
The kind of fungi to ruin your night.
So as I lie here, accepting my fate,
that evil demon comes creeping,
to smile in my face.
I'm all too weak to continue on,
finally letting go of myself, collapsing like a fawn.
My skeletal remains,
shimmer in the sun-
reflecting light like the barrel of a gun.
It's hard not to notice that toadstool right there,
growing from what would be my hair.
The fungi still loves to decay,
what was once me
One,
Very
Cold
October
Day.

I can’t tell you how much it hurts
When it starts and it doesn’t stop
It’s gonna **** me
I’m in a cell and this game is hell
Girl with you I can’t tell
It’s a stand still
This wieght you’re putting on me is heavier than anvil
I want to just cancel
All of our plans I’m mad still
When you do this
I confuse us
With the true us
But it’s delirious
I need to slow down take this serious
And finally ask the question
Am I just begging for your attention
Or do you feel the tension
The push the pull
It’ll roll you away
Like a peaceful melody
I guess I finally got to say what I wanted
Let’s just see how she responded



We used to talk in the dark
We used to be not apart
But we fell away
You were the one that got away
I come to think of this everyday
I hate when it be this way
Girl can’t you see the way
There’s a Path back to me
Back to us
Back to when we once was
I hunt the feeling of your memory everyday just to see you again momentarily